The Hawk And The Blue Haired Girl He Saved
by xxxunknowngirlxxx
Summary: Brooklyn Rayne has never had a easy life. She's orphan. A high school dropout. So it's not really a surprise to her when she gets attacked on her way home from work. But what she definitely didn't expect was to be saved that day by a man with a bow. With a secret agency, aliens, and a girl with blue hair things are bound to get crazy.
1. Chapter 1

_The red truck sped down the street, not noticing the young twin girls who stood frozen in the middle of the road. With a hard push, the younger twin pushed her sister out of the trucks monstrous path. Not having time to get out of the way, the truck hit the younger twin, throwing her across the road._

"Lilly!"

Brooklyn shot out of bed, salty tears staining her pale skin. Her hand immediately clutched her necklace, fingers locking around the old charm.

"Lilly." she whispered, remembering her twin sister who had passed away eleven years earlier.

Looking at the clock, Brooklyn sighed. She ran her fingers through her dyed blue hair, failing to brush out the tangles that were a result of her restless sleep.

Deciding it was time to stop wallowing and actually do something useful for the day, Brooklyn got out of bed and hopped in the shower, not having the money to be able to let it warm up first.

After she had showered and dressed, Brooklyn headed to her shift at a diner called Marie's, the only place that had accepted her application with her being a high school dropout.

After working her ass off for eight hours, Brooklyn headed home. Though her dingy apartment being a suitable home is debatable.

Walking through the deserted alleyways on the bad side of New York isn't the smartest idea, but Brooklyn had no choice. Since she hadn't finished her education and certainly didn't have the money to go to college, living on this side of the city was her only choice unless she wanted to be homeless. And though she didn't live like a princess, it was better than nothing.

The sound of rain softly hitting the ground drew Brooklyn back to her senses. It had started raining and she still had a couple more blocks to walk until she was home.

Quickening her pace, Brooklyn walked into an alley between a pharmacy and a pizzeria so she could go through a shortcut. A couple seconds later, when she started hearing wolf whistles and cat calls, she realized turning down the dark alley was her fist mistake. Knowing it was too late to turn around, Brooklyn sucked it up, hoped she wouldn't piss her pants, and kept walking. That was her second mistake. And then, when the men came into view, and asked her why she was walking away, and she flipped them off, she realized that was possibly her final mistake.

The men had quickly surrounded her, one pushing her against the rough brick wall, while the others went through her purse. The man started groping her breasts as tears clouded her vision.

 _This is it,_ Brooklyn thought, _this is how I end. Not by some heroic action, not by a stupid illness. No, I'm going to die while being humiliated in front of three assholes who have nothing better to do than ruining young girls' lives._

The man started to rip her clothing and the men who had gone through her purse had gotten agitated when they found nothing other than five bucks and a couple of pill bottles for her many mental disorders.

Taking out their flimsy gun, they aimed it at her head in a hope that she would cough up more money. But Brooklyn had no more money. She was basically broke, the only money she got was $1.97 an hour and whatever she had gotten as tips that day.

She let out a strangled cry as one of the men punched her in the gut, giving the man that her against the wall a chance to push his tongue down her throat.

Out of nowhere, Brooklyn heard a soft wishing sound as an arrow flew through the air and struck one of the men in the back. Two more arrows followed that one and lodged themselves in the other men.

She saw a man walk down the alley, bow in hand, and she heard one last thing before she fell unconscious.

"Caw caw, mother fuckers."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey guys thanks for liking the first chapter. I'm glad to say I plan on updating pretty frequently. Hopefully you guys like this story. My twin sister got mad at me for basing Brooklyn's dead sister "Lilly" after her. So yeah as some of you might tell, this is my first story on and I really hope I'll post more stories after this one. So I hope you like this chapter and feel free to review and point out my mistakes so I can fix them.** **-xxxUnknowngirlxxx**

 _"Caw caw mother fuckers."_

With a gasp, Brooklyn shot up out of her bed. Or not her bed. In fact, she had no clue of where the hell she was. With a quick glance around the foreign room, she guessed it belonged to a man. A man who which was currently taking a shower in the connected bathroom and was more likely than not, the man who had saved her in the alleyway.

Deciding it was not in her best interest to stick around until the man came out of the bathroom, Brooklyn quietly jumped out of the bed and headed to the bedroom door. Just as her small hand touched the door knob…

"Where do you think you're going?"

Brooklyn almost pissed herself, scared shitless by the man who had somehow managed to get out of the bathroom without her noticing. Turning around to face the mysterious man, Brooklyn was surprised of what she found. She had expect some old creep or some elderly man who had somehow managed not to break his hip, but this; this was something entirely different.

The man had damp dirty blonde hair and his pale grey eyes seemed to bore into her soul. He was fit, that was for sure. Water dripped down his toned muscles and to his towel which hung low on his hips. Realizing she was staring, Brooklyn blushed and brought her eyes up to his. Remembering he had asked her a question, Brooklyn quickly dismissed all of her thoughts about what she thought laid under that white towel.

"Uh, um… I don't mean to come off as rude, but I really don't have a clue about who you are and I'd like to go, you know, home."

Chuckling at her flustered state, the man walked closer to her, his thin towel sliding even lower on his hips. "What's your name, blue?"He asked, calling her by a nickname she got called more than she would have preferred because of the hue of her hair.

"Brooklyn Veronica Rayne."

" _Clinton Francis Barton_ ," he mocked," but you, Miss Brooklyn Veronica Rayne, may call me Clint."

Embarrassed, Brooklyn extended her hand for him to shake. He gently took her hand in his and the pair jumped apart when they felt sparks run through their hands and along their arms.

"Um, I'll go make some coffee."

Clint walked out of the room, leaving Brooklyn alone once again. Sighing, Brooklyn threw herself back on Clint's bed, eyes staring at the blank ceiling.

She knew she would have to leave soon but she couldn't help but wonder how much happier she could feel if she actually attempted to make some type of a relationship with someone other than her bed. Knowing she should probably say goodbye to Clint, Brooklyn pushed herself up from the oversized bed, and forced herself out the bedroom door and to the kitchen where she assumed Clint was waiting.

Clint was waiting in the kitchen, his eyes set on watching the mug of coffee that sat on the marble counter. She silently crept up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, it had obviously surprised him, causing him to instinctively grip his hand around her throat and push her up against the nearest wall.

Gasping for air, Brooklyn's chocolate brown eyes widened, tears instantly forming in them. Recognizing her, Clint quickly dropped his hand from her throat and slowly backed away.

"Oh god, Brooklyn, I'm so sorry I didn't… I didn't mean to…"

Brooklyn was confused as to why Clint was so upset about this, she did her best to try to assure him that she wasn't upset.

"Clint shh… it's okay I'm not upset."She crouched down to where Clint was huddled in the corner and place a gentle hand on his tense shoulder. "Clint, sweetie, it's okay. You're safe. I'm not going to hurt you."

As Brooklyn tried her best to calm down Clint, she was sure of one thing; she wasn't leaving anytime soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm so sorry I haven't updated in forever. The last couple of weeks have been hectic. First it was my mom's birthday and then I got food poisoning and missed three days of school and then last week I had to get caught up with all of my school work and take care of my mom and twin sister, so yeah I haven't really had the time to write. But atlas, I am back and my mind and heart has been refreshed with the new marvel movie Deadpool which I saw today in theaters. It was amazing and I highly recommend to go see it if you haven't already. I surprised my parents of how well I understood the sex jokes and sexual references that were in the movie. There was also this little girl who was like seven watching the movie with her mom. God, that poor child is probably scarred for life. Anyways, uh… lets get to what you've all been waiting for: Chapter 3. -xxxUnknowngirlxxx**

Getting Clint out of the kitchen's dark corner was difficult. He kept apologizing and sobbing wet tears all over her shirt. Not that she minded, she was actually just relieved that this was the extent of his mental breakdown. She really couldn't deal with him trying to hurt himself like someone had in her past.

After struggling and failing to pull him out from the crevice, she went on her last of very few options.

She knew it wasn't exactly a smart decision, but when was the last time she made one?

Going to the sink, she filled a glass with water, then proceeded to walk back over to the sobbing man, and pour the ice cold water on him.

"What the fuck!"

Putting on a shocked face, Brooklyn feigned innocence, "Why the hell would you do that Clint? Pouring water over yourself like that. Have you always made decisions as rash as that?"

"What?" Clint shook his head, standing up and towering over her pathetically short figure. "You just poured that water on me. Why the hell would I pour water on myself?"

She shrugged her shoulders, thanking the god she didn't believe in that those silly acting classes she took when she was twelve were finally coming to use.

"I don't know, you were like a fucking robot. Do you seriously not remember doing that? Wow and I thought not remember what you had for breakfast was bad."

Taking a deep breath, Clint shook his head deciding that arguing with the strange girl wasn't the best choice.

"So," Brooklyn started," As fun as this was, I must get going. I need to feed my cat."

Not waiting for his answer, she waltzed out the door dramatically adding a door slam for extra measure.

* * *

She walked back to her crummy apartment and realized to things: one; she didn't have a cat, and two; she had left her purse with her medication that she would desperately need in the morning in the mystery man's apartment.

Fuck.

As much as she hated the idea of going through a day without her meds, she hated the thought of going back to the vigilante's apartment more.

Brooklyn sighed, though her health was way more important than avoiding embarrassment, she had never really made a good decision and she was defiantly not going to start making them now.

Coming through the thin door of her "home", she grumbled to herself. She was not looking forward to seeing Clint again. Not because he had hurt her or because he had had a mental breakdown afterwards, but because she scared that if she saw him again, if she let him in, he would see how broken she truly was.

And she wasn't sure she would ever be ready for that.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the wait. Lots of shit has happened since the last update. One of them being me coming out to my dad as a lesbian. He was surprisingly supportive of me and even made a few dad jokes. My mom I had already come out to, but she's kind of in denial. She thinks that "I'm too young" or "I don't know yet". She and my dad got into a big fight painstakingly close after I told her that I had come out to him. How big of a fight was it, you ask? Well, my mom wouldn't speak a word to my dad for over three days. Track started like last week and I already quit. I have commitment issues as some of you can probably tell but I really hope I don't give up on this story. Anyways, to the story:**

Breaking into Clint's apartment was surprisingly easy.

The strange man wasn't home and it had seemed like he had left in a hurry. The fridge was open, papers scattered across the floor, and he hadn't bothered to lock the door.

Brooklyn decided getting her meds, and her bag, was top priority, but she couldn't resist looking around Clint's apartment.

The walls were completely bare, no pictures or posters hung. A few bland furniture was scattered here and there but besides that and the huge mess that the man had left in his departure, Clint's apartment looked unlived in.

Brooklyn picked up one of the sheets of paper that was left on the floor, for some odd reason wanting to know more about the stranger that had saved her life not even a full twenty four hours ago.

 _S.H.I.E.L.D._

 _Name: Clinton Francis Barton_

 _Codename: Hawkeye_

 _Age: 29_

 _Weapon of Choice: bow and arrow_

 _Date of birth: unknown_

 _Supervising Officer: Phil Coulson_

 _Partner: Natasha Romanoff aka Black Widow_

 _Level: 7_

 _Avenger initiative: Positive_

 _Status: Suspended. Agent Barton has been suspended from duty after the diagnosis of PTSD after his last mission which awakened unpleasant memories of childhood abuse. Agent Bart-_

She paused, not allowing herself to read further, as she felt like she was digging to deep into his life. She didn't have to right to know this stuff about him, they had barely even met for god's sake!

* * *

She found her purse on Clint's bed, made sure her meds were in there, and started to make her way out of the apartment when she froze.

Clint stood in the doorway of his apartment, his 9mm held to her face.

Brooklyn quickly dropped her purse and help her hands up next to her face.

"Don't shoot!"

He looked taken aback, realizing who she was, but didn't lower his weapon.

"Brooklyn? What the hell are you doing in _here_?"

She pointed to her purse on the floor. "I forgot my bag."

Clint still didn't lower his weapon. Brooklyn took a deep breath, hoping that she would leave the apartment alive. "So," she picked up her bag off the floor, "I'll just be going now, you know, cats and shit I have to tend to."

She walked towards him and tried to walk around him and out the door, when he grabbed her shoulder.

"You don't have a cat," He said not amused.

"Oh shit, you caught me. But seriously, I need to get going."

He didn't loosen his grip on her shoulder.

"Clint," Brooklyn said slowly, "let go of me."

He tightened his grip and pushed her farther into the apartment, closing and deadlocking his apartment behind him.

"Let. Me. Go." She growled.

He pushed her up against his bare wall, pointing his gun at her head.

"Why the fuck are you here?" He growled. Brooklyn opened her mouth to reply, "And its not because you forgot your purse. You read the file, didn't you?"

She shook her head quickly, denying his accusation.

"Stop lying!" Clint yelled. Brooklyn whimpered and a lone tear escaped her eye and fell on to her pale face.

"Yes," she whispered," I read the file. I didn't read the whole thing, I swear! I just picked it up to see what it was and-"

She was cut off by Clint, who had come to a decision as she rambled. He hit her across the face with the barrel of his gun and caught her as she fell to the ground unconscious.


End file.
